Digital Devil Story
by kagewolf
Summary: Formerly titled "Masks and Puppets". Flynn was a samurai who hailed from a land of hypocrisy and lies, Nanashi came from a land of hard truths and death. They both faced the same trials. No Pairings.


When Isabeau had compared Flynn to the brash, newly-minted Hunter, Nanashi (why would someone call an orphan "nameless" was beyond Flynn's comprehension), he brushed it off as her being beyond delirious from the stress of having life-or-death struggles between angels and demons. It seemed so valid an excuse when they saved the poor kid and his companion from Aniel's cold wrath, that for a few moments, his otherwise collected companion, fell strangely silent. He was reminded of all the times that she, Walter, and Jonathan would simply gape at him for recruiting some immensely powerful demon with successful negotiation…most of the time anyway.

Seriously, what use would demons have for macca..?

He was snapped out of his reverie when said companion turned towards him, expression scrunched up in furious contemplation and forehead turned a hue of scarlet for a few fleeting seconds.

"I just… don't really know how to put it. It's like being a spectator of a play and watching the two of you perform while wearing all of these different masks. Not that I mean you two would be dishonest to all of us," the blustering samurai replied.

Flynn was far from being mute, but he did see fit to only reply with an arched eyebrow. Not because he doubted her sanity (not as much Flynn would doubt his own at any rate) but because of all the prophetic visions, all of the dreams, the feeling of having retread old ground once more, was summed up strangely well in those few words. There was nothing, absolutely nothing he could recall from any of his previous cycles about being captured by some random demon in a fedora and being hostage. The plan was simple: after following the ideologies of both YHVH's absolute sense of law and enforced cohesion as well as Lucifer's ideal of meritocracy without mercy, Flynn would choose the middle ground. He'd called up on every Demon and Angel that his compendium held, every eldritch abomination, and every elder god and outer deity that Mido's records held, then he slew both Merkahbah and Lucifer.

Well that was the idea at least.

Instead, said fedora-wearing deity, Krishna, was crafty enough to approach Flynn and Isabeau while their guard was lowered. Krishna was also smart enough to have arrived with backup in the form of other spurned deities in his image, and was somehow able to perform a fusion outside of the Cathedral of Shadows app, using Flynn and himself no less.

So when Nanashi, impatient and uncaring for social graces that he was, performed fusion on top of fusion until Krishna was made, Flynn didn't know if he should appreciate the irony of the subjugator becoming the subjugated or choke slam the rookie hunter for his crass faux pas of using said demon in his presence. Even being defeated and shackled to the enemy by a contract, Krishna would maintain a cool stoicism. Made deep thoughtful expressions as if all of his plans were still being set into motion.

Maybe, just distantly, that would be the case. It was with this heavy thought, Flynn reflexively did what he's been doing since the incident at Kiccigorgi.

Flynn wore his own mask.

It was a façade. It was calm, smooth, pragmatic, and charismatic. Living over the course of several cycles, repeating the same sin of turning his blade against his one-time comrades Walter and Jonathan, after they had become malformed by the Lucifer's deception and the archangels' absolute law respectively, hardened his heart. Some would go as far as saying that Flynn was less than human at this point. He didn't care argue. Not anymore

For Flynn his mask was his serenity. A poker face to keep the demons and enemy hunters guessing, and damn if they didn't hate it as much as Flynn himself simply adored it. Of course, the function of his mask was also a shield. Somewhere along the path of being twisted and wound up by a war of Law, Chaos, and Neutrality, Flynn lost himself. So his mask of aloofness, of calmness, of apathy, had hidden the fact that he was simply existing, but not wholly alive.

And when they had finally reached the Creator, with their little band of misfits and outcasts finally ending a war dragging on across time and space (or at least a part of it), Flynn's supposedly, unbreakable mask finally had a crack, followed by another crack, until it finally broke away.

This plaything that gods and demons had fancied so much had finally broken free and his first reaction was with tears of joy that he quickly wiped away before anyone caught sight of him.

He could finally _live_ rather than just _exist_ aimlessly after so long.

That was when he took a glance at the one he had to thank for this newfound freedom and cursed internally. Flynn just stumbled upon another revelation:

Nanashi wore a mask too.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hope you guys stay tuned for the final part. Next up, we look at Nanashi/Akira! Also, I don't own Shin Megami Tensei, Megami Tensei, or any MegaTen brand at all. If I did, I more than likely wouldn't be writing this two-shot.**


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